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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184765">i wanna learn to love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaffleswithsyrup/pseuds/quaffleswithsyrup'>quaffleswithsyrup</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The End Of The Fucking World (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(it's the cat and butterflies and such from ep 1), (sorry i forgot to tag that but it has a lil bit about him killing clive), Animal Death, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Death, F/M, It isn't graphic, Minor Character Death, Rated For Violence, Swearing, and i wanted to give my boy some, anyway james is my son and he needs love, because i felt like alyssa got closure, rated for language, there is animal death but you probably shouldn't be reading this if you didn't know that, this is essentially just a deep dive into james</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:20:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184765</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaffleswithsyrup/pseuds/quaffleswithsyrup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"being with alyssa had started to make me feel things. she made me feel things. and i didn't like it at all."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alyssa/James (The End of the Fucking World)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i wanna learn to love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this fandom is dead and this is really bad but i wanted to write something so i wrote this</p><p>title from the song "another love" by tom odell</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After James killed the neighbor's cat when he was fifteen, he put it in a shoe box. It was a trophy of sorts. A reminder of the blood that had spilled out of the cat's neck, the soft little whimper it had let out right before it died. </p><p>As he killed more animals, he added to the collection. The shoe box stayed hidden and safe in his closet. His dad didn't come into his room. James's dad had always insisted that teenagers needed their privacy. He probably thought James had posters of naked girls hung up in there. James didn't.</p><p>Over the next two years, James would occasionally take out the shoe box. He would open it up and look inside. He had arranged it very methodically. The cat, being the largest animal, was laid out against the side. Butterflies and such could be stacked on top of the smaller animals, like rodents. There was a bit of room left, but if he ever killed another cat, he would need a second box.</p><p>Every time he opened it, he wondered if seeing the bodies carefully displayed in the box would make him feel anything. It never did. He wondered if maybe he would have felt something if he'd been allowed to see his mum's body, still and silent in the coffin. He wasn't sure. </p><p>When he eventually decided to kill a human, it was out of that effort. The effort to feel something. Not that he was expecting anything. But there was a strange, small sense of satisfaction that tugged at him whenever he looked into the shoe box. He was curious how it would feel to kill a real person. James didn't know if murdering a human would be the same as murdering a cat. He didn't think so. </p><p>Alyssa was perfect to kill. She trusted James. She had blind faith in him. "Let's get out of here," she said. She was offering herself up for him. Alyssa was the perfect victim. It would be like killing a butterfly, except bigger. And louder. Alyssa was much, much louder than a butterfly. She said "fuck" a lot more than a butterfly. </p><p>When they got stranded in the woods, James was ready to kill her. "Why don't you fucking think of something for once?" she asked him. He was annoyed with her. He had his hunting knife with him, tucked into his shoe. They were alone in the woods. He could have done it. But the car would be identifiable as his dad's, and he would be linked to the murder. James wanted to kill someone. He did not want to go to prison.</p><p>He could have done it in the motel. Alyssa was in the bathroom. He got out his knife and stood outside the door, waiting. An ambush would catch her off-guard. She didn't have the physical strength to fight back. (James wasn't very strong either. But he had the element of surprise.) But then he heard her crying, and all of a sudden, he couldn't do it anymore. He didn't want to. He wasn't quite sure why.</p><p>She came out of the bathroom, and James did not have the knife out anymore. Later, she said, "James? Will you cuddle me?" He did. It felt nice. Warm. There was a weird feeling in James's stomach that night as he lied next to her. It didn't feel bad. It felt soft. He reasoned with himself that he would have plenty of time to kill her later, and he attempted to ignore the soft feeling.</p><p>When they were in the professor's house, James realized something. He didn't want to kill Alyssa. He didn't want to kill her at all. He was trying to ignore it, but there was something about her, and he couldn't do it. Every time he looked at her, there was another reason. The way she dumped their plates into the pool. The piece of gum she stuck on the picture. The way she danced like no one was there. The way she kissed him. </p><p>It was strange, feeling. James couldn't name the exact emotions he was having. But he knew he was feeling something.  He knew it was because of Alyssa. He knew she had created something entirely new within him. Or maybe recreated something very, very old. He didn't like it. When he was standing there with flowers and she walked in with someone else, it hurt. Alyssa hurt, and all of a sudden he was trying to convince himself to kill her again. He thought maybe he didn't like feeling anything.</p><p>He went into the room once he was sure she'd fallen asleep. He brought his knife. He always brought his knife. There she was, quiet, calm, breathing softly. She looked smaller. Less angry. Less hurt. And all of a sudden James couldn't remember why he'd ever wanted to kill her. Because she was Alyssa. And even the thought of hurting Alyssa now was strange and distant. He lay down on the ground at the very edge of the bed, and her hand was hanging off the side, and very gently he reached up. He was almost touching it. Almost holding her hand. </p><p>Fear was an odd emotion. It was simultaneously calm and panicked. He went from slowly reaching toward her hand to sliding underneath the bed, breathing quickly. There were footsteps, and Alyssa was asleep. She was exposed. The images of women duct-taped and screaming flashed through his head, and he tried to be silent as the professor entered the room. It was hard. It was very hard to be silent when you were scared. </p><p>James really hadn't understood what it would be like to actually murder someone. Seeing a real life person all bloodied and lifeless on the ground was very, very different from seeing a cat. James wondered if there was a shoe box out there big enough for the man's body, and then he threw up. He didn't know why he'd done it. Why he'd murdered someone. But it felt like he had to. He had to in order to protect Alyssa.</p><p>The next night, Alyssa left James. She was scared of him. He could tell. It wasn't fair. He had protected her, had saved her from a very bad thing. (He was trying to ignore the nagging feelings of guilt and shame that came with remembering what he'd first wanted to do to her, and how he could have been the very bad thing.) James wandered out alone. He paid people to beat him up. He thought maybe the physical pain would take away the feelings. He thought (maybe hoped) that the sting of knuckles against his skin would chase away the hurt and sadness. But it didn't. Instead, James started crying alone on the street. Crying. The way the tears rolled down his face felt different. Uncomfortable. He resisted the urge to try and find Alyssa. (He hoped she was safe.)</p><p>He went back to the café where they'd been. It was a long shot that she'd show up, but it was better than waiting around with a strange man and talking about his mum's suicide. Anything was better than that.</p><p>When Alyssa came back and took his hand, James was suddenly happy that he had feelings, because some feelings could be very, very good. </p><p>They stole someone's car, because they had to make it to Alyssa's dad's place somehow. James had learned how to hotwire when he was ten. Alyssa seemed impressed, but it wasn't really that hard. The car they stole wasn't bad, but it was low on gasoline, and the music selection was pitiful. They drove all night, listening to one song on repeat until Alyssa got annoyed. </p><p>Eventually, the tank started to run really low. They needed petrol. James pulled into a station, and he told Alyssa to fill up. Just a little, he said, and he would keep the engine running. For a while, it looked like it would work. Until a woman (probably the manager) came out of the store. She told James to turn off the car, and he knew they were fucked. She could see that they'd hotwired it. She knew they didn't have money. They were absolutely, completely screwed.</p><p>James stayed in the car while Alyssa went into the store to pay. To pay with no money. Shit. He could tell that Alyssa was trying to stall, but it wouldn't work forever. He was anxious. And then, when the manager of the petrol station grabbed Alyssa and shoved her against the counter, he got very angry. Angry that someone would touch her like that. Hurt her like that. He took Alyssa's jacket from the passenger seat and shoved his hand inside of it. It wasn't a great plan, but it was better to pretend he had a gun than to sit there and watch Alyssa get hurt. So he rushed into the store. "Let her go," he said, "or I'll blow your fucking head off."</p><p>In the end, it wasn't his fake gun that saved them, but a teenager named Frodo. An employee. He shoved the manager into the bathroom and locked the door from the outside. James was grateful, but Frodo coming with them was pushing it. It was James and Alyssa against everyone else, because everyone else could not know that they had killed a man. So James and Alyssa got into their stolen car and slammed on the gas, and as they left Frodo behind, James only felt a little bit bad. (Or a lot.)</p><p>They finally made it to Alyssa's dad's house together, and just as soon as they'd arrived, James wanted to leave. Leslie sold weed, for Christ's sake. The longer they stayed with him, the higher the chances they would get caught. And Leslie wasn't right. He wasn't all there. Alyssa didn't see it. She couldn't, and James knew why. She'd wanted this for so long. He wondered briefly whether he should just let her stay with Leslie and leave her. But James couldn't leave Alyssa. There was no way. And he was deluding himself if he ever thought he could live without her now that he knew what it felt like.</p><p>And then Leslie ran over a dog, and Alyssa suddenly understood. Leslie ran over a dog, trying to run away from his problems, and James knew that she got it. She said they needed to kill it. The dog. It was whimpering on the ground, and it was miserable. Leslie had all but murdered it. It was in so much pain. Alyssa was right; they needed to let it die. James found a big stone, and he was going to drop it on the dog's head. He was going to help it. He was going to kill it to end its pain. (But he couldn't stop remembering the cat. And the butterflies. And he felt very sick suddenly.) Alyssa asked him if he was crying. He said he wasn't, but he was. She took the stone, and the thud when she dropped it was really loud. She hugged James, and he tried to pretend they weren't hugging next to a dog's body.</p><p>They buried the dog on a beach, and then they kissed and fell asleep in each other's arms and pretended they were okay.</p><p>The next day, that's when James really understood what he would do for Alyssa. Anything. He would do anything. It was weird, love. It was a bit miserable and a bit terrible. But it was so, so good. So when Leslie fucking called the police (he knew this wasn't going to end well), he told Alyssa to tell the cops he'd kidnapped her, that he'd done everything. He knew she'd be okay that way. But she was stubborn and a bit stupid, and she refused. So James did the only thing he could. He knocked her over the head with a gun and ran. He could hear her screaming his name as she woke up and the police held her down. He tried to ignore it. (Alyssa's voice was strangely loud.) His heart was pounding in his head, and he was hoping above all else that Alyssa would be okay. </p><p>When the police shot him, the pounding stopped.</p><p>After he was shot, he was in the hospital for a long time. Alyssa didn't come to visit. (They weren't allowed to see each other, and that was the worst punishment, worse than any shot.) But her mum did. Gwen was nice at first. She was quiet. And then she made James write a letter to Alyssa, saying that he never wanted to see her again. She said that would be best for Alyssa, and James knew she was probably right. (He would do anything for her. He knew that he would regret writing the letter for the rest of his life. But Gwen was right. Alyssa deserved a life, and she couldn't have a real one with him.) At the very end, after his signature, he added a P.S. "Good luck with everything." Even if everything didn't involve him. </p><p>James was released from the hospital nearly a year later. After a lot of physical therapy, he'd somehow managed to regain the use of his lower body. (It had helped that he'd imagined Alyssa cheering him on.) When he and his dad got home, he told his dad he needed some time alone. There was something he needed to do, something he needed to fix. He went to his room, and he took out the shoe box. He vomited. That night, when his dad fell asleep, James took the shoe box into the woods, and he buried each animal. He cried as he dug a grave for every one of them. </p><p>That night before he fell asleep, James said a very quiet goodbye to Alyssa in his head. (He promised himself it was the last one.)</p><p> He tried not to think about Alyssa in a shoe box.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i didn't realize how hard it was to write james until i tried. respect for the 72 of you out there who have done this before. also, i know this wasn't the best and it was really short, but this is my first time writing teotfw. also it's hard to make the words go. sorry :( if you somehow miraculously stumbled upon this and enjoyed it, please comment. more comments mean more happy tears from me</p></blockquote></div></div>
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